Vasha, naturally, took a more direct approach. The warrior slashed with deadly intent at the green wizard's neck. Her sword whistled through the wizshade without achieving the desired decapitation. Again, on the back-swing, the broadsword passed right through the seemingly solid wizard. Neither blow cut so much as a hair of his verdant beard.
The barbarian fell back a step and shot an inquiring glare in Liriel's direction. The drow, however, was just as puzzled. According to tavern lore, magical weapons could inflict real damage upon wizshades. But Vasha's broadsword, which until now had sliced through magic like a knife through butter, had drawn not a single drop of green blood. Worse, the wizshade's emerald-colored fingers had begun an ominous, spellcasting dance.
Suddenly Liriel understood what hadn't happened, and why. The broadsword had been warded to destroy magical attacks; it had no magical powers of its own. Strictly speaking, it wasn't a magic weapon. But she had weapons that might serve-strange devices steeped in the unique radiation magic of the Underdark. ~ '
Liriel snatched a spider-shaped object from a bag at her belt and hurled it at the spell-casting wraith. Her throwing spider whirled between the gesticulating green hands, and its barbed legs bit deep into the wizard's gut. The apparition shrieked, tore the weapon free and flung it aside, and then dived back into the vortex. The whirl of multicolored light sucked in upon itself and disappeared.
Vasha tucked away her sword and regarded Liriel with approval. "You see? Magic cannot stand before honest steel." She stooped to retrieve and examine the throwing spider. "Even when the steel is in so strange a shape," she mused.
The drow decided not to waste time with explanations. She reclaimed her magic weapon from the woman and returned it to her bag. "Let's go," she urged, knowing that the Skulls' orders could not long be ignored. "Either we find your runecaster and get you out of the city by day's end, or you'll be grooming bats for the rest of your natural life!"
"I'd rather bed a satyr," muttered Vasha darkly.
"Well, sure. Who wouldn't?" agreed the drow as she pushed the barbarian firmly along the tunnel.
The swordwoman, who was becoming accustomed to the elf s dark sense of humor, shot a scornful look over her shoulder. But the expression on Liriel's face-at once serious and dreamily speculative-turned Vasha's withering glare into an astonished double take.
"This is indeed a strange place," she marveled.
Liriel nodded her approval. "Well, praise the Dark Lady. You're finally catching on."
But Vasha the Red's insight proved to be shallow and fleeting. The warrior woman continued to meet every obstacle with a ready sword and a snarl of contempt. By the time the hour for evenfeast rolled around, they were no closer to finding the elusive Toth than they'd been at the onset of their quest. On the other hand, Vasha had hacked a sentient jelly into quivering globs, dueled to the death an ill-mannered ettin, surgically dampened the ardor of several pirates on shore leave, and trimmed the wings from the shoulders of a small but aggressive wyvern, after which she'd advised the creature's dumbfounded wizard master to have the hide tanned and made into a decent pair of boots. In short, only through a mixture of dumb luck and brute strength did she and Liriel survive the day.
When she could bear no more, the drow steered her charge into the Burning Troll. It was a pricey tavern, but the food was good, the halfling servants were prompt, and the patrons could be reasonably sure of an entertaining brawl. As soon as they were seated, Liriel ordered roast fowl and bread, wine, and a bowl of cold water. She plucked the stone coin from Vasha's hand and threw it into the bowl. The hot fragment met the water with a hiss of protest, and then subsided. Liriel wished that the human could be as reasonable.
"Forget about the coin for now," the drow insisted. "You can't continue running around Skullport, following a piece of rock and killing whomever you please."
"Why not? I've done just so these many hours."
"And we have so much to show for it," Liriel returned with acid sarcasm.
The barbarian could not dispute this failing. "So?" she said gruffly.
"I know wizards," the drow asserted. "This Toth seems to be an especially slippery specimen. To catch him, we'll need planning, subtlety, treachery. I know of some people who for the right price…"
Her voice trailed off, for it was clear that the sword-woman was no longer listening. Vasha's dangerously narrowed eyes were fixed upon the bowl of water meant to cool the stone fragment. It was now at a full boil. Steam rose from the roiling surface, and the stone tumbled in the churning water.
"We need!" the barbarian roared in a scathing echo, sweeping her hand toward the tavern's entrance. "I need nothing but my sword. Behold Toth, son of Alfgar!"
Liriel beheld. An involuntary smile curved her lips as she did so, for standing just inside the door was Vasha's male counterpart: tall, muscular, flame-haired, and dressed with no more regard for modesty than the warrior. On him, the drow noted with approval, it looked good. But she wondered, fleetingly, where he carried his spell components.
The runecaster was not at all cowed by the spectacle of an enraged Vasha. He sauntered directly over to their table. With insolent ease, he conjured a third chair and straddled it.
"By what fell magic did you find me?" demanded the warrior. Her face and voice were as fierce as usual, but Liriel suspected that Vasha was both embarrassed and unnerved at being caught off guard. Liriel was none too happy about that, herself. She'd spent the day in Vasha's wake, too busy trying to stay alive to realize that the runecaster had been leading them on a merry chase. He apparently had a devious streak, something that the drow understood very well and should have recognized.
"Greetings, Red Vasha," Toth said amiably. "I heard you were in town and assumed you were looking for me, so I followed the trail of destruction to its source."
"If you are so eager for battle, then let it begin," snarled the swordwoman. "I challenge you to a contest of honest steel!"
Toth cast a wry look in Liriel's direction. "Notice she did not suggest a battle of wits. Our Vasha might be eager, but even she would not enter a fight unarmed."
The insult sent Vasha leaping to her feet. The table upended with a clatter, bringing a faint cheer from the tavern's patrons. So far, the evening had been too quiet for their liking.
The warrior brandished her sword; Toth plucked an identical blade from the empty air. They crossed weapons with a ringing clash, and the fight began.
The combatants were well matched and in grim earnest, and for a few minutes the tavern patrons were content to watch and wager. But something in the air drew them toward mayhem like bees to clover. Small skirmishes broke out here and there. Those who had blades used them. Others contented themselves with lesser weapons, each according to his strength: humans and half-ores brawled using fists and feet, goblins and hags pelted each other with mugs and bread, mongrelmen lobbed shrieking halfling servants at the ogres, who promptly returned fire with furniture. In moments the entire tavern was engulfed in wild melee.
Liriel edged to the side of the room, skirting the worst of the fighting and occasionally ducking a flying halfling. Despite the natural immunity to magic that was her drow heritage, she could feel the seductive tug of some unknown spell pulling her toward battle. This Toth was good.
But however good he might be, the runecaster underestimated Vasha if he thought that a tavern-wide disturbance might distract her. True, the goblins' mug-throwing had showered her repeatedly with ale, and the growing piles of bodies necessitated some extra footwork in the dance of battle, but the swordwoman did not seem to care or even notice. Her face was set in an ecstatic grimace as she slashed and pounded at her long-sought prey. Liriel watched closely, impressed that Toth managed to hold his own against such fury. But drow wizards were also trained fighters, and Liriel knew that swordplay was no serious deterrent to spellcasting.
Spellcasting was generally frowned upon in this tavern, but the melee thoroughly absorbed the attention of the other patrons. Thus the dro
w was the only one to see the forgotten wedge of stone rise from a puddle of water on the floor, fly into the runecaster's hand, and meld with the half-circle he held. Only she saw Toth slip the time-coin into his scant loincloth, saw his lips move as he spoke unheard words of magic. For a moment Liriel eyed the handsome runecaster and wished she'd paid better attention when that halfling pickpocket had tried to teach her the trade. But, no time for regrets. She quickly cast an incantation of her own, then waited confidently for what surely would happen next.
Toth disappeared, as expected.
And with him went the spell of battle-lust. Most of the combatants ceased at once, blinking stupidly as they regarded their upraised fists or drawn blades. One ogre, who had lifted a halfling overhead and hauled him back for the throw, stopped so abruptly that the hapless servant went flying backward as opposed to hurtling into enemy ranks. His shriek, loud and shrill in the sudden lull, indicated that he did not consider this fate an improvement. The halfling crashed feetfirst through the tavern's wooden door and hung there, half in and half out, groaning softly.
The rush toward the halfling-bedecked exit was sudden and general. All who could leave the tavern did so, for participation in fights of this magnitude was usually rewarded with a night in Skullport's dungeons. In mere moments Vasha and Liriel were the only able-bodied persons left in the room.
The barbarian's roar of frustration rattled what little crockery remained. "Coward! Oath breaker! Vile runecast-ing son of a wild pig!" shrieked Vasha, shaking her sword and fairly dancing with rage.
"You should have seen that coming," the drow said calmly.
"How could I, Vasha the Red, an honest warrior, foresee such treachery? I fought with honor! Here I stand, drenched in the blood of mine enemy-"
"That's ale," Liriel pointed out.
Vasha abruptly ceased her ranting. She looked down at her sodden raiment and saw that it was so. This mundane discovery leached a bit of the fight-and a good deal of pride-from the barbarian's eyes. She tucked away her sword, crossed her arms over her mighty bosom, and sulked.
"Blood, ale. Whatever. It matters only that Toth has escaped to where only our daughters' daughters might find him!"
"Oh, I don't think so," said the drow in a satisfied tone. She held out her palm. Lying in it was a stone coin, whole except for a small wedge.
Wonder lit Vasha's eyes. "That is the time-coin! But how?"
"Typical devious drow tactics. I stole it from Toth, using a simple spell. Sometimes magic is the most direct method, after all."
The piles of splintered wood and wounded patrons argued powerfully for LiriePs point. Vasha conceded with a nod. "Magic has triumphed, strength has failed," she admitted humbly. "But where then is Toth, if he cannot travel through time?"
"A wizard powerful enough to construct a time portal could be almost anywhere," Liriel said. "My guess, though, is that he's somewhere in Skullport. It's exceedingly dangerous to travel to a place never before seen. Also, once he realizes he's missing that coin, he won't go far."
This reasoning brought glowing hope to Vasha's face. "Then we can still hunt him down!"
Liriel lunged at the departing barbarian and seized the edge of her bearskin cloak. "Enough! I've another idea, but you must agree to the use of magic."
The swordwoman subsided, bowing her head in resignation. "How can I not? Vasha the Red has failed. I yield to the wisdom of the drow."
Liriel held up the runecaster's book. "This tells how to use the coin. We'll step back in time, to the point just before Toth came into the tavern. And this time, we'll be ready for him."
Vasha agreed. She stood guard while Liriel studied and cast the intricate spell, and she managed to hold on to her temper and her sanity when she found herself once again seated across the table from Liriel in an undamaged tavern. But the sight of a small coin fragment at the bottom of the bowl of water made her swallow hard.
"We have failed! Toth still holds his half of the coin; he can flee!"
"Why should he?" Liriel retorted. She pulled a knife from her boot and used it to fish the stone from the rapidly heating water. "He's coming here looking for us, remember? He doesn't know that I'll lift his half of the coin."
As she spoke, the drow fingered a tiny pocket just inside her sleeve, where she had hidden the nearly whole coin that had traveled back in time with her. She did not understand how this had happened, or have any idea how the coin could exist simultaneously in its past and present forms. But she saw no reason to speak of this, or any harm in keeping silent. As long as Vasha got her runecaster and brought him back to stand trial before the ancient Rus, all would be well.
Vasha still looked puzzled, but she allowed the drow to position her near the tavern door, in plain sight of any who might enter. Liriel took her place nearer the entrance. Toth will be looking for you, so I've got a better chance at getting in the first blow," the drow explained. "If I miss, feel free to step in."
The barbarian shook her head. "I do not doubt your success. What shall you do-imprison the runecaster in some mysterious dark-elven spell?"
"Something like that," Liriel said absently. She retreated into herself, seeking the innate magic that flowed through the fey dark elves. Summoning her natural power of levitation, she drifted up to hover high above the doorway's lintel.
This act was easy enough for Liriel, something that all drow of the Underdark could do. But this was not the Underdark, and such powers usually faded away long before a dark elf came so close to the lands of light. The spectacle of a floating drow, therefore, was unusual enough to draw every eye in the tavern. Even Vasha stared, bug-eyed and gaping.
Thus it was that Toth, when he entered the tavern, noted the general bemusement and instinctively followed the line of the patrons' collective gaze. When he looked up, Liriel was ready-not with some spell, for she could not know what magical defenses this powerful runecaster might have. This time the drow took a page from Vasha's book: with the flat of her dagger, she bashed the poor sod solidly between the eyes.
Down went the mighty Toth. Liriel floated lightly to the floor and crouched beside the fallen runecaster. She patted him down, found his half of the coin, and pressed the smaller fragment to it. The stone pieces joined, flowing together as smoothly as two drops of water.
The drow handed the restored coin to Vasha. "As much as I'd love to keep this, you've got to get home before the Skulls come looking for you."
"My thanks, Liriel, daughter of Sosdrielle, daughter of Maleficent," the barbarian said gravely. "I shall long remember your wisdom, and never again will I disparage the power of magic, or the importance of treachery!"
Liriel shrugged. "Just don't get carried away. Although I never thought I'd admit it-especially after the day I've just had-there are times when the best approach is the most direct one. Even if that's a good swift blow."
The swordwoman nodded, pondering these words as if they'd come from an oracle. "Complex indeed is the wisdom of the drow," she marveled. "Though I live a hundred years, never could I fathom it all. And yet," she added, her voice becoming less reverential, "there are some things that even such as I can learn."
Out flashed Vasha's blade once again, and the glittering point pressed hard against the base of Liriel's throat. "The second time-coin," the swordwoman said flatly. "The one you brought back with you. Give it me."
For a moment Liriel considered trying to bluff. Then, with a sigh, she handed it over. "But how did you know?"
Vasha smiled thinly. "You wished to learn about the Rus. What better, more direct way than to travel back through time yourself? Since you gave up the coin so easily, I knew that there must be another." With that, she shouldered the unconscious runecaster, held up one of the identical time-coins, and spoke the words that summoned the gateway to her own time and place.
A wary silence followed Vasha's disappearance, as the tavern's patrons waited to see what might next transpire. Liriel recalled the spectacular brawl and returned the hostile gla
res without flinching. "Trust me, it could have been worse," she snapped.
And that, she decided much later that evening, was an excellent summary for the day's adventure. Her encounter with Vasha could have turned deadly in a thousand dif ferent ways. True, Liriel had not gained the ability to travel through time, but she had acquired a new book of rune lore. And she had learned one more, very important thing:
The main problem with the direct approach, magical or otherwise, was that it was just too damned predictable.
EPILOGUE
Justin interrupted the loquacious author. "All of those stories are in here?" he queried pointing to the manuscript.
"But of course," Volo replied, grateful for the occasion of taking a breath, "and more."
"All have been authenticated?"
"I had each source sign the manuscript pages based on his or her information."
The publisher examined a page for corroboration, then placed it back on the stack, satisfied. "Drow princesses, Khelben, Elminster, curses, spells, dimension hopping, dragons, smoke powder."
"And more," Volo assured.
"All the elements of a best-seller," Justin offered.
"You really think so?" Volo queried, batting his eyes in mock naivete.
"Of course," the publisher replied. "We have a deal at our usual terms."
Volo held up a single finger to indicate a pause. "I was sort of hoping for a slightly higher advance… expenses and all," the gazetteer replied hesitantly.
"How about a ten percent increase?"
"How about twenty?" Volo pressed. — "'.*
"Done!" Justin replied, extending his hand to his best-selling author.
"Done!" Volo replied, his hand hooking up with his publisher's midway across the desk. As the two drew back to their respective sides of the desk, he added, "I was really counting on being able to collect my advance funds immediately… expenses and all."
"No problem," Justin replied, coming around from his side of the desk. "I hope right after lunch will be all right. I have another pressing engagement, but my secretary should be back by then."
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